


Tudor Queen, Tudor Pawn

by DesertVixen



Category: Wars of the Roses RPF
Genre: Early marriage, F/M, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21837577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/pseuds/DesertVixen
Summary: Elizabeth of York in her early days as queen
Relationships: Elizabeth of York Queen of England/Henry VII of England, Margaret Beaufort & Elizabeth of York Queen of England & Henry VII of England
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Tudor Queen, Tudor Pawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madeinessos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeinessos/gifts).



She might be the Queen Consort of England, but Elizabeth of York knew that on the chessboard that was Henry Tudor’s court, she was merely a pawn. A prized and protected pawn, perhaps, but powerless. The true queen here was Margaret Beaufort, her mother-in-law. Henry Tudor respected his mother’s judgment, and Elizabeth knew that his current success, his hold upon the crown of England, owed much to that lady’s assistance. 

Elizabeth liked and respected her mother-in-law, although she did find her to be a bit overbearing at times. She could not deny that Margaret had earned her power, had sacrificed much to ensure that Henry Tudor sat on England’s throne.

It was not that Elizabeth wished to advise her husband on matters of the realm, but she did wish to have more of a voice in her own home. She wished to be more than a pawn. She wished to be heard. She wished to enjoy her life, to order things in her sphere as she liked. 

If she was honest with herself, she wished for Henry to love her, not just value her.

Elizabeth of York knew her worth, knew that Henry needed her to strengthen his claim to the crown of England. She had been the eldest daughter of a king, the sister of a king, the niece of a king, and was now the wife of a king. It was certainly not what she had dreamed her life would be like as a girl, before political realities brought home her lack of power. 

She missed her family, but knew that even without the civil war that had torn England apart, destiny would have kept her apart from them. If her beloved father had not died, her marriage would have been a matter for the diplomats to arrange. Perhaps she would have left the court and never seen her family again. 

But he had died, and her world had turned upside down at seventeen.

Elizabeth tried not to dwell on the fate of her brothers Edward and Richard. She tried not to think how lonely Edward must have been, separated from their company. If only he could have come into sanctuary in Westminster Abbey with the rest of them. If only he could have been safe. If only the uncle who was supposed to protect and advise him had done so. 

Elizabeth had watched as men of the Church wore down her mother’s resistance to sending Richard to join Edward in the Tower of London. Elizabeth Woodville had finally agreed that Richard might go to bear his brother company.

Elizabeth of York had never seen her brothers again, not even after emerging from sanctuary. There were rumors and whispers about their fate, most of them concerning the man who had gained the most from their absence. She tried not to imagine how they might have met their end, but in her heart she knew they must be dead. Otherwise, one of the factions would have produced them. Richard would surely have produced them to protect himself.

Richard, their uncle who was supposed to protect his brother’s family.

Richard, their uncle who had declared that Edward and Richard and Elizabeth and their sisters were bastards. The claim that her father had been betrothed to another lady, that his marriage to Elizabeth Woodville was not a true one, had been a painful one for Elizabeth. Her parents had loved each other, had loved their children. Surely her father would not have made such a mistake. 

Richard, who had usurped her brother's rightful place.

Richard, who was rumored to have considered marrying his young niece after his wife Anne died. That rumor had resulted in Elizabeth being sent away yet again, while Richard contemplated Portuguese marriages for both of them.

Richard, who might have murdered his nephews, or at least ordered someone else to ensure they died.

Richard, who had believed that Elizabeth Woodville had forgiven him for his acts against her family. 

Richard, who had lost all in the end.

Elizabeth of York had watched her mother play her role in Richard’s court, not yet knowing that she was a pawn in her mother’s game of chess. 

Elizabeth Woodville and Margaret Beaufort had found common cause, had seen a possible future where they were the grandmothers of a king who sat on a secure throne. Henry Tudor had sworn an oath to marry Elizabeth of York, to make her his consort, and he had kept that oath after his victory on Bosworth Field. Henry needed her, needed to avoid another Yorkist claimant to the throne trying to threaten him, needed to end the fighting. 

So he had married Elizabeth, but not until he had been crowned King of England.

Henry was not unkind to her, but neither did Elizabeth feel that he loved her. She was his queen consort, and she had duties to the king, to the throne, to England. Henry Tudor wished to found a new dynasty, one that combined the red rose of Lancaster and the white rose of York to make England great. It was impossible for him to do that without coming to her bed, and Elizabeth had found that Henry relaxed a little inside the royal bedchamber, that his hands could be gentle, that duty could be pleasurable.

He did spend some time with her outside of the royal bedchamber, but Elizabeth knew that he generally preferred more learned company, and that ruling England kept him busy. While Elizabeth did enjoy reading, she also loved music and dancing and games. She had seen what political games could do, and preferred simpler, safer games.

She might be a pawn, and yet she had some power. Elizabeth rested her hand lightly on her waist, feeling the faint flutters of what she hoped would be England’s next prince. She had begun to suspect that she might be with child, but had not quite been able to believe it was so, until she felt the child move within her. The prospect of motherhood was an exciting one. Elizabeth wondered if she would be lucky enough to add “mother of the king” to the list of her roles. 

Tonight, she would tell Henry that he was to become a father. It pleased her to imagine the scene, to know that he would be pleased that their marriage had borne fruit so early. Even if the child in her womb proved to be a daughter, it was surely a sign of heaven’s favor.

Elizabeth imagined that Margaret would be pleased as well, wondered how that great lady would treat her grandchildren.

Perhaps one day Elizabeth would have her husband’s love.

Perhaps she would not always be merely a pawn.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! I enjoyed your prompt and digging into Elizabeth as a character.


End file.
